Another month of prompts has passed, and I am still thoroughly enjoying the daily challenges to write a story in only 12 words. Sometimes it’s easy, and sometimes I really have to break my brains to find something I can write about. Mostly, and I think it’s the same to others too, the stories are quite personal.
I have chosen to link this to Friday Flash of F. Dot Leonora, knowing that I am not following her prompt…
My hopeful question.
I thought he joked, but he didn’t.
Note: Of course this is something that I keep hoping for, that the moment will come when Master T will be able to spank me again. Yes, I do get the occasional slap on my bottom, but that can barely be called a spanking.
Walking upstairs, she decided the vibrator would join her in the shower.
Note: This is something I can do as I have quite a couple of vibrators that are quite silent, but up to now I haven’t done it.
White – color of purity. Red lingerie under her wedding dress defied that.
Ladylike, legs together, she sat down, then snorted.
“I’m not a lady!”
Note: Ha! This is something I always say about myself. I can act ‘ladylike’ but I am not a lady. I have never been into embellishing myself except for the most necessary. I’m much more a tomboy, than a lady.
Deliberately defying his authority, she stuck out her tongue; waited for reaction.
Note: You don’t know how many times I have done this, and still do, sticking my tongue out at Master T and waiting for his reaction. However, this is not the way to try and get punishment, because that never works.
“Dirty girl! Whore! My slut!”
Words in my head strengthen my orgasm.
Note: These are words Master T many times had made me say out loud. The memory of those words now fuel my solo orgasms.
One tasty treat, was all I wanted.
She offered me her cunt.
His control gives her freedom on life’s journey.
Without it, she’s lost.
Note: With our life as it is at this moment, I frequently feel lost. Master T’s control is little to none, and I keep on reminding myself that it will be back as soon as he feels up to it again. It’s not gone, just a bit dormant at this moment.
Curved lines of charcoal on paper created a sexy piece of artwork.
Note: This reminded me of the days I still painted.
Neither she nor the boys cared that her school uniform was short.
I made sure to be on his naughty list, needing the spanking.
Note: If I can find someone who would want me on his naughty list, I will do everything to get on it!
Once established, young women visited her clinic to learn about self pleasure.
His tongue savored the velvet of the juices escaping from her folds.
Note: When I read words, I see the images, and reading these words definitely made me squirm, as I pictured him between my legs, lapping up my juices and savoring it on his tongue.
He gently tied the red ribbon around her neck.
“Now you’re mine.”
Abandoned in her room, she risked more punishment by masturbating without permission.
Six written words started their courtship: “I’ve read that between the lines.”
Note: This seriously is the way things started between Master T and me. We had contact, but more for business, and then in reply to one of my emails, he wrote that. I wanted to know what he meant, and one question lead to another… and the rest is history, as they say.
Lifetimes ago, in the drive-in, she discovered the power of her sexuality.
Note: Oh gosh, the drive-in. This reminds me of the naughty things I have done back then, and the exhilarating feeling when a boy had his hand down my pants.
One violation. One cane kept her bent over the bench; in pain.
“We’ll take the mean. Bend over! Thirteen strokes it is!”
One look at her frozen frame and he knew: “I’m in trouble.”
Note: I can imagine some men coming home, finding their wives in the lounge or kitchen or bedroom or wherever and instantly seeing her posture, knows he has done something wrong. Thankfully this is not the way Master T and I do things.
Dressed in her wedding dress; too beautiful to be a murder victim.
Note: This came about because we were watching a Scandinavian series on Netflix where a murder victim was dressed in her wedding dress.
Mischievously giggling she put a princess band aid on each cane bruise.
Note: This is something I would really do if I am in a silly mood!
Once she made this life commitment, her entire world revolved around it.
Note: I am focused like that.
“Monday, Monday…” she sings, walking to the car to go to work.
Note: Believe me, I never sing this when I go to work on a Monday. Or any other day either!
One eyebrow raised, he asked: “What did you just say? An orgasm?”
Frantically she rubbed her clit. She had 30 seconds to come!
“Accept the pain!”
She did. The cane strokes seemed to hurt less.
Note: This is something I have experienced, not with the cane but with other pain. Once you accept it, it seems to hurt less and subspace might just be lurking around the corner.
She was subject of his scrutiny, leaving her cunt wet and throbbing.
Evening darkness hugged her body, securing her like ropes tied around her.
Her fingers gently brush the tattoo; symbol of her love and submission.
Note: I really do this, run my fingers over the tattoo on my leg and remember that this is the sign that I belong to Master T, and always will.
© Rebel’s Notes